


A Padawan's Growing Pains

by MissChrisDaae



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mentors, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, it was supposed to be fun but it turned into feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChrisDaae/pseuds/MissChrisDaae
Summary: Because Obi-Wan is in his twenties and his only parent figure is confusing.—Prequel era Jedi.Obi-Wan.Qui-Gon.Quinlan Vos."On a scale of 1-10, how much will I hate this plan?""12""oh good"
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Summer Fic Exchange





	A Padawan's Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juju/gifts).



“Master, on a scale from one to ten, how much will I hate this plan?”

“Twelve.”

“Oh, good.“ Obi-Wan grimaced. “I would hate to enjoy a rescue mission.”

“You will find the life of a Jedi significantly easier if you learn to accept discomfort as a constant companion,” Qui-Gon informed his Padawan as he continued to survey the land beneath them. “If you do that, you’ll find that, with enough time, you can even come to like it.”

“I’m sure I don’t remember ever being taught _that_ as part of the Jedi Code, Master,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing his master warily. “Perhaps you could tell me of this plan before we implement it? If you wish me to be acquainted so much with discomfort?”

“A Jedi knows peace,” came the easy retort of his master. “Do you at least remember _that_ from the Code?” The words were scolding, but there was just a touch of mirth as he spoke, mirth Obi-Wan knew the Council would not have approved of.

“The plan, Master?” He prompted, changing the subject back, and now Qui-Gon smiled in a way that didn’t require the Force to make Obi-Wan feel uneasy.

“It’s a variation on the plan we used on Pijal—”

Obi-Wan suppressed a groan, not even listening now. They were going to end up in a medcenter by the time this was over. For a brief moment, he wished that he’d been assigned a different Master, but then remembered that it was the will of the Force that had placed him at Qui-Gon Jinn’s side, and he ought to be grateful for it. “Is there any chance we can take a more cautious path, Master?”

“I understand your reluctance, Obi-Wan, but there are times when hesitation can cost lives. Now, come. No time to waste.” And before the Padawan could object, his master was barreling down the hill, lightsaber already in hand and ignited. Obi-Wan had no choice but to follow in the speeder.

“Did you consider this might be faster?” He asked dryly as he pulled up alongside Qui-Gon. “This is why I advocate for more thorough planning.”

“You advocate for planning because it allows you a sense of security,” Qui-Gon corrected, even as he climbed into the speeder. “But that is often an illusion, it blinds you to the realities of the task at hand, and what will be required of you.”

“You talk as if we were in the middle of a full-scale war, and not a dispute between two species on a single planet, Master.”

“The day you take the trials, my young Padawan,” sighed Qui-Gon, “will be the day you look beyond the limitations of a single moment and a single mission. The thing I wish to teach you, more than the Code, or swordsmanship, or duty, is what it means to live in service to the Galaxy and to the Force.”

“But the Jedi do live in service to the Galaxy and the Force.”

“That does not mean theirs is the only way to serve.” And with that, Qui-Gon grabbed the wheel and pulled hard to the right, swerving to avoid a massive rock formation. “Although we do still need to hone your technical skills.”

* * *

“Do you ever think maybe we ought to have been switched?”

“What?” Quinlan looked up at Obi-Wan with raised eyebrows as they continued to move through the shelves of the library. “What are you talking about?”

“Our masters. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I would have been more suited to a more… traditionally-minded teacher like Master Tholme, and you have… quite a bit of common ground with—”

“Stop,” Quinlan cut him off. “I understand how frustrating it can be to have a master whose methods are so different from your own, Obi-Wan, but you are on the path that the Force chose for you.” Then a small smile appeared on his lips. “Perhaps it was to help teach you not to be quite so serious.”

“You are enjoying pulling rank on me far too much, aren’t you?”

“It _is_ one of the benefits of having already been knighted,” Quinlan admitted with a laugh, clapping him on the back. “You’ll understand one day. If you actually listen to Master Jinn properly.”

“Oh, are we in trouble, Kenobi?” A feminine voice came from the other side of the stacks as Siri Tachi rounded the corner. “Do tell, what’s it this time? Anything interesting, or just the usual ‘ _Master Jinn is too reckless, he doesn’t follow the code’_ whinging?”

“It is not whinging!”

“I have to concur with your fellow Padawan, it absolutely _is_ whinging,” Quinlan teased lightly, bowing as he prepared to take his leave. “Good day to you, Siri.”

“Good day, Master Vos,” Siri said as she bowed back with all the proper respect before straightening to look at Obi-Wan more intently, now that the two of them were alone. “I’d suggest meditating to unwind, but I think you come out of every meditation _more_ tightly wound.”

“Is it the determination of _everyone_ lately to chastise me?” Obi-Wan huffed. “Perhaps I _will_ go meditate, but if I do so, it will not be in your company.”

“So fussy,” Siri sighed dramatically, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. Then she reached out to pull gently at his Padawan braid. “I do admire you, Obi-Wan. You know that? I tease you, but it’s not meant to hurt you.”

“I am doing all that I can to live by the code and do my duty to the Order and the Galaxy,” he retorted, pulling a datapad from the shelf closest to them and pretending to look at it, mostly to avoid eye contact with her. “I hardly see what makes that worth mocking when we are all supposed to be doing so.”

“Well, we don’t all do it the same way,” Siri pointed out dryly. “Maybe that’s why the Force chose to put you with Master Jinn, so you’d loosen up and understand it.”

“And what makes you think you’re so much more enlightened in the will of the Force than I am?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Perhaps because I don’t have my lightsaber hilt jammed all the way up my backside,” she answered, her features soft though her tone was blunt.

“Your idea of consolation is not very conciliatory.”

“And you need to start considering things from more than one certain point of view.”

“Well, of course ‘a certain point of view’ sounds ridiculous when you say it with that tone,” scoffed Obi-Wan, putting the datapad back as he turned to leave her. “I’m supposed to help the younglings with their saber forms.”

“I’m sure they’ll be just as dutiful as you are by the end of the training session,” she called after him teasingly. Obi-Wan chose to ignore her and kept walking.

* * *

The next mission was Naboo. The _last_ mission.

They would be burning Qui-Gon’s body that evening, but at this moment, Obi-Wan was alone in the antechamber where the body was being prepared.

So much had happened in so little time. He was still processing most of it, but at the moment, all he could feel was a wave of emotions that Jedi were not supposed to have.

Pain. Pain at the death of his Master, his teacher... his father. No, it wasn’t even that he had died. It was the _loss._ That night in the Temple, when Qui-Gon has effectively renounced him in order to take Anakin as his Padawan, despite everything the Council had said. The pronouncement that Obi-Wan was ready for the Trials, despite never saying so before then. And those last words...

_Train him._

A part of him, the rational part, knew that it was not Anakin’s fault. The boy had asked for none of this. He was just an uncommonly gifted child that had happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Qui-Gon had latched onto his gifts as fulfilling an archaic prophecy that some Jedi didn’t even believe in.

“I don't,” he admitted aloud. “I don't believe he is what you said.” Why would the Force make its Chosen One a slave on an Outer Rim world no one cares about, rather than someone from the heart of the Order? “I don't believe it, and I don’t think you did either. If you had, you would not have asked me to be the one to train him. I’m sorry, Master, but you were wrong. I’m not ready for the trials, I’m not...”

Not ready to let go. Which is not the Jedi way. Just one of many ways he was a failure. The council was still officially deliberating, but maybe he could convince someone else to take Anakin. If not one of the masters from the council, then perhaps Quinlan, he thought, remembering the conversation in the archives.

And yet... he’d promised. He’d given his word that he would train the boy. It had been his master’s dying wish. How could he break that promise?

_You need to start considering things from more than one certain point of view._

_You are on the path that the Force chose for you._

For a moment, the voices in his head sounded exactly like Qui-Gon.


End file.
